


Dark eyes and a pretty smile

by Halebop



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha Will Graham, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Dark Will Graham, Discussion of Omega verse society (briefly, M/M, Mind Games, Omega Verse, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Will Graham, i mean there is some plot but eh, probably mid s2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28752351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halebop/pseuds/Halebop
Summary: - I thought we agreed not to talk about my nature, doctor.- I understand, however this is purely from a scientific approach. As the doctor that you visit the most regularly, I have to ask you : did you take your heat blockers, Will ?It wasn't a direct question, he had a plausible reason to ask it, Hannibal felt incredibly powerful as he knew that this was the moment to break Will, to force him to verbalize it. Force him to admit he was an Omega, finally. Make him loose some of his mystery facade. Something red passed in Will's eyes, barely more than a shadow. And then Will turned his eyes away, a weird smile on his lips. He took a long breath.- No, I haven't, he finally murmured.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 98





	Dark eyes and a pretty smile

\- You know what is the first thing Jack asked me ? If the killer was an alpha.

Will swallowed, disgust tainting his manufactured detachment.

\- It's always the first thing he asks. Not why, not how, just... the sexual nature of the killer.

\- And you resent this, noted Hannibal.

He watched intently as Will nodded his head like a spasm and looked at point in the carpet.

\- I hate it. The society's obsession with knowing one's sexual nature. It's like we must disclose our reproductive history to complete strangers.

\- Well, you famously don't, smiled the doctor.

Hannibal had been careful to hide any accusation in his voice, but Will's eye shoot up and his dark smile, the one that appeared after his months in prison, assured him that he saw right through him.

\- I don't want to be judged on whether I can bear offspring or not.

\- You really think I would judge you, Will ?

\- Dr Lecter, I think you would judge a drop of blood based on its color.

Hannibal smiled, and Will's gaze lingered on his lips before it went back to the windows, face closed once again. Hannibal observed the curls fall on his forehead, wondering one more time what thoughts could boil under it, so near and yet restricted to him. A fine layer of sweat made the Will’s skin shine.

His reluctance to disclose his nature was obviously a poor excuse not to reveal he was Omega, Hannibal knew it. He would have no reason to hide that he was an Alpha, as assumptions made about them would probably help him to be taken more seriously by his peers. As an Omega, however, with the way movies and adds portrayed his kind, he would have to fight harder to be recognized for his... unusual work in the police force. And yet, for some reason, the fact that Hannibal still hadn't managed to extort that confirmation from his lips was a frustration he couldn't quite shake off.

Will seemed still lost in his thoughts. Hannibal wanted him to say it, admit it, a surrender to Hannibal, but without asking the question directly. He didn’t want to signify to Will he was curious about him, or that his act of mysterious loner affected him. That would let him win. Instead, he was about to make a tangentially related remark when Will beat him to it :

\- Alphas kill to feel like what was promised to them at birth is true and not an... alphabetical fable rooted in stereotypes. Omegas kill to feel like these fables have no impact on society, to prove the dainty pup-bearers can still be dangerous.

Will's eyes left the window to come back to Hannibal.

\- They both kill to feel powerful, he finished.

\- We all want to feel powerful, responded Hannibal. To be powerful is to be in control. And you, more than anyone, need to be in control, would it be only of your own mind.

\- Oh, I control it, Will assured with that dark smile pointing again.

Hannibal wanted to study it, to understand what was behind it, but as if he read his mind Will broke eye contact again and looked in the other direction. What was that smile, why did it looked like Will knew more than he let on ? It rubbed Hannibal the wrong way that Will could think he hold more power than Hannibal. The man was brilliant, but he needed to know who was really in control of their relationship. His eyes followed a drop of sweat forming at Will’s temple, as the man’s finger tapped on his armrest.

\- Jack doesn't understand, Will continued, a bit more agitated as the conversation went back on tits previous track. He thinks… he believes the lies and the… It’s not fair that…

Will cut himself, abruptly hiding his face in his hands. A subtle trembling had taken possession of his whole being. Hannibal was at his side in an instant :

\- Are you feeling unwell ?

The note of concern in his voice was genuine. Toying with Will was much less entertaining if he was broken, but again, Hannibal knew Will wouldn't break this easily.

He touched Will's hand, finding it burning. And as he understood the situation, his concern disappeared entirely.

\- Will ? he asked, careful to disguise any emotion.

\- No I'm fine, I just...

He uncovered his face but hadn't stopped trembling, and Hannibal used this occasion to assert the temperature of his forehead. Incandescent. It would have been a terrible fever... if Hannibal didn't suspect what it actually was.

\- Will, I know you refuse to engage in this conversation but my question comes from a medical and friendly concern.

He ignored Will's bitter smirk at the mention of "friends".

\- Will, did you take your heat suppressant this morning ?

Will's head jumped up to look at Hannibal's eyes, blue eyes looking panicked and betrayed, even if the voice with which he spoke managed to be calm and almost polite.

\- I thought we agreed not to talk about my nature, doctor.

\- I understand, however this is purely from a scientific approach. As the doctor that you visit the most regularly, I have to ask you : did you take your heat blockers, Will ?

It wasn't a direct question, he had a plausible reason to ask it, Hannibal felt incredibly powerful as he knew that this was the moment to break Will, to force him to verbalize it. Force him to admit he was an Omega, finally. Make him loose some of his mystery façade. Something red passed in Will's eyes, barely more than a shadow. And then Will turned his eyes away, a weird smile on his lips. He took a long breath.

\- No, I haven't, he finally murmured.

Truth be told, Hannibal didn't know the moment it would feel this good : a heat warmed his stomach, traveling on his skin, his muscles, tingling, filling his very core with a deep, deep satisfaction. Will was seated in front of him, trembling, in heat, betrayed by his own body, and Hannibal felt greater than he had in a long time.

He wanted more. He wanted to unravel him and to force him bare. To push, and push, and push him until the breaking point, and push again through it.

He needed more.

\- Will, I am concerned for you, he announced.

He took one of Will's hand and placed two fingers on his pulse, ignoring the spasm from his patient. His cardiac rhythm was too intense, the heat too great. At this pace, Will had about five hours before it became unbearable. Maybe more, if he had been on suppressants all this time.

\- In your condition you might not have two hours before you, he said softly. You need help, or you might become a danger to yourself and to the others.

Will looked at him, batting his lashes. That dark, mysterious shadow floated in his pupils.

\- And I suppose you have a solution ?

\- I do, albeit it's an... unconventional one. Will, have you ever heard of a prostate massage ?

Will's eyes widened. In fear? In arousal ? If his heat was knocking on the door, it might as well be both.

\- It will put pressure on the aching point, allowing you... release, without the need for physical intimacy. Your body will relax and allow you maybe five hours to go back to Wolf's trap, and surround yourself in your pack and your belongings. Plus, and I'm sorry to mention it in your state, the presence of an alpha might calm your hormonal imbalance.

Will closed his eyes, a faint smile on his lips.

\- You're an alpha. Of course you are.

He shook his head. Sweat was still forming on his forehead, rolling to his temple, loosing itself in the hairs.

\- Does it surprise you ?

\- No, not at all.

\- Are you judging me based on the stereotype you dismissed minutes ago ?

\- I assure you I'm not, doctor Lecter.

He still hadn't opened his eyes. His skin was irradiating heat.

\- Will, I must press you for an answer. Your condition...

He let his sentence trail without finishing it. He wanted Will to break, Will to accept, Will to surrender. He watched attentively as those blue eyes looked up at him, and the pretty lips parted.

\- Well, if this is your professional opinion, Doctor...

Hannibal smiled. He had Will. Forcing him to confront his omega nature was the first step to making him embrace his own want, the darkness, making him murder in cold blood. But most importantly, it knocked him out of his pedestal, indicating him that he had not the advantage on this match. Will would be bare, trembling at his fingertips, and Hannibal would own him, body and mind.

He had Will.

But Will, as usual, surprised him. Without leaving his gaze, he stood up from his chair, uncomfortably close, his breath burning Hannibal's cheek. He leaned forward, closing the distance, and Hannibal felt his breath catch in his throat.

\- If this is unconventional practice... maybe we should leave it out of my medical record ?

Will's voice was sweet, languid, but with a hint of something dangerous in it, like the taste of iron disguised in the blood. For reasons unknonw, Hannibal suddenly found it difficult to swallow. Will backed out, just a little, and Hannibal realized their mouth were barely inches away, that their skin were too close, too personal. And Will, that incredible man, licked his lips.

Was Will... flirting with him ? Hannibal hadn't anticipated that. It was odd to watch, unnatural on his traits, fascinating. Hannibal wanted to cut open this skull to nest in it, to methodically unmake it, understand it. It was wrong, unlike anything Will would ever do, and yet it looked perfect on him, hypnotizing. It could not be an effect of his heat, it wasn't advanced enough. But if it was... If Will's mind was clouded enough for this to be his answer, Hannibal was going to has fun. He would make his scream and thank him for it.

He looked back at those lips, pink and shining. At the hint of teeth visible through the smile, he hadn't realized he was leaning before Will took at step back, breaking Hannibal out of his trance.

\- So ? Are we doing this, doctor ?

The way he said "doctor", making the word roll on his tongue and savouring it like fine wine, made Hannibal suppress a shiver. Why did he shiver ? He was in control of Will ,he would prove it in an instant. Will's lips stretched, in that odd, fascinating smile. Hannibal swallowed.

\- Oh course, he answered, focusing back on his plan. If you could prop yourself on my desk, I will just take some commodities.

Will lowered his eyes without losing his smile, and slowly, started unbuckling his belt. Hannibal forgot to breath for a second, and when he realized it, he promptly turned away and walked toward a cabinet to find gloves and lube. What was happening? His own body didn’t react like he used to, but most importantly, Will didn't react like Hannibal expected him to. Barely any shame or any resistance was visible in his being, even at the thought of being bent over a desk and entered by someone he knew was a serial killer. Was he not afraid ? His movements were confident, sultry, even. And this damned smile... like an invitation... He felt a sudden strain on his groin and looking down, realized his dick was more than a little interested in the situation. He rearranged his jacket to hide it. Not the plan. At least not today.

"Not today"? Why was he thinking that ? He didn’t plan on doing it again. He would break Will’s mind here, now. There would not be another time. And he didn’t know where that shout of envy and arousal came from.

He shook his head and grabbed the medical gloves and the expensive bottle. This was not the time to analyze his own thoughts. It was the time to undo Will. And he would, oh he had plans. He would make him cry, and shout, and loose that damn reserve, and force him to bear his dark feelings. He knew how, oh, he would prove him who was in control. With a smile to himself, he closed to cabinet and turned back to his desk. His breath caught in his throat once again.

Will's pants and underwear were on the floor, and his horrendous plaid shirt was just low enough to hide his modesty. But his calves were exposed, showing sculptured legs and the shadow of muscles under his skin. Oh if Hannibal had three hours and some paprika, he knew exactly how to honor them... He looked up and caught the icy blue eyes on him.

\- Doctor, I'm afraid I'm somehow not very slick , Will warned, licking his smile before bending slowly on the desk, exposing himself.

\- It's... it's common after a long time on suppressant, Hannibal answered, having trouble to get the words out.

He paced himself to walk through his office, sole hitting the dark wood with a deliberate rhythm. It was to frighten Will, not to calm himself. He didn’t need to calm himself, he was calm, he was in control, as always. Will's smile followed him, until he was looking over his shoulder and Hannibal was placed behind him. Oh, what a shapely rear Will had; it was a tragedies on the level of Corneille that he decided to hide them everyday in the terrible jeans he wore. Reverently, he placed a hand on the pale skin. Will's unexpected hum of approval went straight to his groin, electrifying his column on the way.

He needed to act quicker than he had anticipated.

For no reason in particular.

He took back his hand to put on a glove, and opened the bottle. At the loss of contact, Will had ever so slightly arched his back, subtly pushing his rear toward him. Oh, this was making Hannibal's skin grow hot too. He deliberately took his time to pour the clear liquid on his fingers, observing its entrapped bubbles reflect the light a moment to calm his flaming desires. This was not about him. This was about Will. About what he needed, and how much he could give the Hannibal in exchange. What did Hannnibal want from this ? Ideally, Hannibal would have loved to be given Will's morals. Shut up his brain, make him react instinctively, and make thos instinct become those of an animal. He wanted so, so badly to break him. He smeared the pool of lubricant around, dutifully coating his fingers. He didn't want Will to hurt, he needed him to enjoy being destroyed. It was a delicate balance to work with. Hannibal had walked on that edge for a very long time.

He slowly placed his un-lubricated hand back on Will's skin, yet the man's soft whisper of approval still took him off guard. His skin tingled as he circled and circled the hole, taking delight in the hiss, the whispers, the breathes out of Will's lip. If Hannibal had listened to himself, he would have made him cry out right now.

Instead, he pushed his finger in, slowly, and felt a surge of heat irradiating in his body when Will's head fell to his chest with a wonderful, pleading sound.

\- Do you wish me to stop ? Hannibal asked, knowing the answer but too drunk on power to stop himself.

\- God no, Will muttered.

The power, the raw power he had over Will, just at his fingertips... Hannibal just wanted to push his luck, and to push it more. He entered deeper in Will, listening to his breathing becoming louder, and when Hannibal started to introduce a second finger, it changed into a litany of sounds ranging between soft whines and whispered curses.

Hannibal moved in and out, softly, carefully, caressing him, and the soft whines soon became moans, deep moans that vibrated low in his chest. Hannibal's jacket wasn't able to hide his arousal anymore, and the line of his pants was probably ruined, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. In front of him was Will, desperate, having let go of his illusions of power. He could not help himself : he started crooking his fingers and exploring Will, slowly, teasingly, dragging out of him him louder and more urgent noises. Hannibal wanted him hopeless on his desk, as desperate as he made him feel ; He wanted him to be unable to use his luminous mind, completely lost, too far gone to form a single coherent thought.

And Hannibal could do it while still maintaining an air of professionalism; he had crafted a perfect trap to close on Will, and he had no qualm about using it. Will was hot, thigh, sucking his fingers in; Hannibal pushed inside and looked with amazement the gloved hand being pulled close to the flesh of this amazing ass. Will's heat almost burned his fingers, and yet he could not even envision to stop; He pushed, and turned, and pushed again, until Will's head suddenly surged up with a gasp of air.

\- Ah, we have found it, Hannibal announced with much more confidence than he was feeling.

He was drunk on the sight in front of him: the large shoulders stretched the plaid fabric, the dark curls fell on the sweat-glistening neck, the legs trembled under him. He moved his fingers again, at the same place, watching Will shake and shout. Again, he brushed, and again, Will cursed. Hannibal should have shown some restrain, he should escalate the session bit by bit, getting Will truly broken before giving him what he needed; but Hannibal couldn't do it. Will was arching his back, head fallen on the desk, moaning, trembling, pleading, a cliché of an Omega in heat, and Hannibal found himself weak to that. Will fought, yet Will was in heat and his own body made him loose; and Hannibal, oh, Hannibal was the one who brought him relief, his only salvation, he had him in his absolute power. It heat up his head, making his dizzy, making him crave more, making him push in Will, push again and again, entering Will quicker, deeper, brushing against the prostate in a relentless rhythm, bringing Will toward what was surely over stimulation, yet Will didn't complain, Will pushed himself on Hannibal, Will moaned and trembled and Hannibal was unable not to give him what he needed; with a forceful cry, Will spasmed, clenched around the fingers, tight, hot beyond comfort, and he came on the dark wood of Hannibal's desk.

Hannibal could not believe it; he saw it, he sensed it, and yet his neurons had a hard time wrapping around the sight in front of him. Will fallen on his desk, his work desk, nude from the waist down, an amazing ass clenching on his fingers. The pale skin was more heated than ever, Hannibal could feel it even trough his pants, and Will was lost on his own heat.

Will pushed back, just slightly, and Hannibal felt his cheek bump against his clothed erection. He saw him turn around, and shoot him a look of his dark, blue, dangerous eyes over his shoulder. Before Hannibal could decide what to do, his mind still cloudy with power and desire, Will had slid off his finger and knelt in front of him, hands on his belt.

\- Let me, he whispered, frantically undoing it with trembling movements.

Hannibal could not stop him, he didn't want to stop him, he wanted to feel him and wanted his mouth on his aching groin, he needed it, needed Will on his knees and needed contact and needed relief; and Will did deliver. Hannibal looked down at Will's dark curls, his shining lips, his strained plaid shirt falling on his lap, and that was all he could see before being forced to close his eyes because Will's mouth was on him. Hotter than ever, sliding easily, his tongue moved and Hannibal had to grip the desk not to fall. Will, oh, Will's lips were there and he moved so perfectly, so nicely, in and out, in and out, strongly, with the barest hint of teeth that made Hannibal loose his mind. He could not think, he needed Will's mouth to keep going, to go and go and go, the heat tightening in his body, hard, until he knew he had barely seconds to go; he murmured something to warn Will, or maybe shouted it, he could not know and could not care. But yet again, Will's actions were beyond his imagination.

A hand shoot up to grab the base of his erection, hard, too tight, to painful, stopping Hannibal inches from his release. He stumbled, high, so close, so achingly close too coming.

\- I think I should give you a prostate massage too, doctor, Will's voice arrived to him.

Hannibal wanted to protest, that this was his session, his therapy, but he wasn't sure any of that pretense still held now; He felt strong hands turning him around and he almost fell forward on his desk, barely propping himself in time.

Will hadn't let go of his dick.

Hannibal was bent forward, with no pants. He suddenly realized the vulnerability of this position. Oh, no. He was indeed ready for whatever Will wanted to do to him. Shame, revolt and a deep, deep arousal coiled in his body, somehow fuelling each-other, until Hannibal realized he didn't want to stop it. Why, how, he didn't know, but he was more turned on than he had been in a long time. To be entered, would it be only by fingers... and by an omega, of all things... Then he felt slick fingers enter him and his arms gave up under him, putting his torso flat on the desk.

Will was in him. He was less careful than Hannibal had been, less meticulous, but stronger, way stronger. Hannibal felt the finger stretch him, pushing, playing, pushing past the resistance of the muscles, touching him in un-touched places, and Hannibal was gone. He was moaning, he was pretty sure of it, and maybe drooling; his throat was raw as if he had been screaming, but he didn't care, barely noticed it, he just wanted Will's fingers to fill him, to push, to try, to explore... Hannibal cried out when he felt Will touch somewhere inside his walls : he didn't know what that was, but suddenly all his nerves were lighted at the same time, heating him, burning him, satisfying him, making him crave more, more, even more. He realized he was rocking back on those fingers, trying to guide them to the same spot. It was humiliating, degrading, and yet when the finger touched him again it was perfect, it was right and he needed more. His dick was still achingly painful, gripped by a steel hand, he needed release so badly but he didn't even think about touching himself : Will's fingers were in him, rough, too quick, to brutal, and Hannibal loved it, fuck, he loved it so so much, he would have done anything for them to continue touching and pushing him. A third finger was added, Hannibal was boneless, a simple vessel of pleasure to be rocked against his desk again and again and again...

When he felt the fingers exit him, a desperate cry escaped his lips, a hopeless, terrible sound he didn't recognize. For instants that seemed to last hours, Will wasn't on him anymore, and he felt empty, horribly needy, ready to do anything to satiate the terrible hunger deep in his gut, a foreign and terrible feeling. And then, he felt the tip of something bigger bushing against his entrance. With a cry, he felt Will's dick slide in him until the hilt. No, no... Omegas didn't do that... it hurt, it hurt so much, and yet it pushed all his nerves and he felt so complete, so filled, so good, so terribly, terribly good like this. Will started moving slow at first, exiting almost all the way before going back in, at the sound of Hannibal's moans. He felt so full, so good, he loved it, he loved it and he couldn't speak anymore, just cry and grip the edge of his desk for some balance. Deep, brutal thrust to his prostate hit him like matches heitting the surface of petrol. Hannibal moaned so openly, and Will's grip on the base of his dick was so strong, he just, he needed release, desperately, he needed it, needed it, and yet Will pushed inside him again, deeper, deeper... And then, Hannibal felt a knot pushing against his rim.

A knot.

He moaned louder than before. His reaction was one of deep, deep seated sexual pleasure, one that pushed any other thoughts out of his mind, out of his being, for good. Will was an Alpha, Will had deceived him, Will had that dark smile and the red in his blue eyes and he played him, he played him and won, and Hannibal could have come just from that if the iron grip on his dick didn't prevent him. Will... The knot pushed him, pushed him to his limit, and at every thrust he felt his rim open more, with jolt of pains that just went directly to his dick. Fuck, fuck... He felt so full already, he wasn't sure anything could enter him now, it felt so big, it...

And the knot passed, and Hannibal lost all the air in his body, all his will, all his thought. He felt so full, like he was going to burst at any moment, and yet Will hadn't stopped fucking him, he was fucked harsh and quick, pushing, pushing everything harder. Hannibal was a mere recipient for the pleasure, the unbelievable hot, painful, blinding pleasure that filled him entirely; And despite everything, despite the hand that gripped and hurt him, he came more powerfully than he had ever before, crying, shouting, moaning, cursing, pleasured dry by the hand on his dick, until he was reduced to a boneless pulp fallen unto his desk, barely held up by Will's dick, his knot, in his ass.

He registered that Will had stilled, that something even hotter was in him, but his could not move, could not think, couldn't do anything, couldn't care. He did, however, feel when Will held him in place and forced himself out; it felt like Will was breaking him, slicing him, destroying him, and yet the chemicals in his brain mixed and transformed it in more post-coital bliss. Will let go of him, and Hannibal legs gave out under his weight ; he fell to the floor, sensitive ass landing painfully on the carpet, head barely able to stand on its own. He managed, difficultly, to turn and sit with his back against the leg of his desk, just to be able to see Him.

Will we deposing a tied condom in Hannibal's bin. It must have come from his wallet, given as it was abandoned on the cabinet's floor. Then Hannibal saw him stand up, pulling up his pants, fastening his belt. Now that he knew he was an alpha... he could see the decisiveness in his gestures, the command he exulted, sure of himself and of what he wanted. And in those eyes, laid on him in detachment and coldness, he saw the animal instincts, not the alpha one, but the violent one, the unstable one, the one Hannibal wanted so desperately to bring to light. They were already here. How blind Hannibal had been. How unusual Will was. How beautiful he was, as the afternoon light crowned his dark curls with a crooked aureole.

-Thank you, doctor, Will said with that dark smile, the one that fascinated Hannibal.

He was fully clothed now, towering over Hannibal's half naked body, yet make no gesture to help him. He just watched him, an amused sprinkle in his dark eyes.

\- It has indeed been a pleasure, he adds with a mock politeness. Next week, same hour?

He raised an eyebrow and smiled, completely confident, completely in control. And Hannibal suddenly realized, with the strength of a thousand building falling on him, that he was done, he was in love, and he wanted his knot inside of him as quickly as possible. His last strength left him and he fell to the floor; raising his eyes, he saw Will nod polity and leave.

He needed to wash himself. He needed to stand up. He needed to pull up his pants. And yet, he just turned around and lied on his back, there, on the floor of his office, eyes opened to the ceiling without seeing it. The slow realizations filled his spent, broken body, like hot cider flaming and sizzling in his vein. He was in love with Will. He was in love, irremediably and unmistakably, for now and forever, and he wanted his dick inside of him again; in love, in lust, in awe of the dark shadows that inhabited the blue eyes. He was... He was fucked. Being in love, being played, being controlled by someone else, that could not be. He had to kill Will, now, or maybe marry him. Those were his only two options. And in the middle of his cabinet, spent like never before and reduced to the liquid state by one single man, he realized that those two options made him very, very happy.


End file.
